


I will soon forget the colour of your eyes (and you'll forget mine)

by cruellouelle



Series: Chasing down daydreams [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Smut, Sports, Swimming, a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:08:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruellouelle/pseuds/cruellouelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What would I do without you?”</p><p>Louis shrugs. “Probably drown.”</p><p>Harry laughs before he's pulling him to himself, leaning down for another kiss. “You're probably right.”</p><p>“I always am.”</p><p>Or the one where Harry's a swimming prodigy on the track to the Olympics, but can't seem to do much else without his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will soon forget the colour of your eyes (and you'll forget mine)

**Author's Note:**

> This is because Swimming is my love :3
> 
> Thanks to my betaaaaa :3 
> 
> The title is from 'I'm low on gas and you need a jacket' by Pierce the Veil.
> 
> Enjoy!

_Harry's a star and Louis's kind of just there._

*

It's like infinite blue as he moves, pull after pull, kick after kick and breath after breath. The languid feeling of his body after every stroke, every turn, fuels him.

The water's cold but with his movement it's warmer than anything else. He can feel the burn in his muscles, the way they ache for relief, but he only kicks harder, pulls harder. It's how he works.

He's leading the group, as always, and he's sure he's put some distance between him and everyone else, but that only makes him push harder. Always harder.

He thinks he's lapped the slowest of the group about twice now but he just keeps _going_.

He's about to finish this set, excited to get onto the next with adrenaline pumping inside of him and he thinks, yes, this is what he loves. The fast beating of his heart, the rush of his blood pumping oxygen with every breath, and the stretch of his muscles with every stroke.

Harry just really loves swimming.

He's been doing it for so many years now and at age seventeen, as a regional and almost national champion, he doesn't think he'll ever stop.

He pulls up at the wall, huffing out air as he checks the clock on the side of the deck. Ten minutes and thirty five seconds since he began the set. He's not that impressed, knowing he must have gone over 1:05 in one of the hundreds. His coach is waiting on the deck and he gives him a smile. Harry's not impressed but he sinks underwater and blows out, trying to catch his breath while he waits for the rest to return.

Training goes by and he feels even more determined now since he fell off a bit on that last set. They're beginning sprints now and the group, a mixture of boys and girls, are all out on the deck, mostly joking around but Harry's focused.

He has trials for the next regional meet and even though everyone is telling him there's no way he won't make it, he can't just take their word for it.

He has to work for it.

In the three lanes they have, he's paired up with Liam and Marina, the two who'd have the best chances of beating him. Harry has his cap on tight and his goggles over his eyes while his teammates play around.

Harry knows he takes things a bit too seriously, but his team is used to it. They love him for it.

He steps up on his block, into the starting position almost immediately, muscles pulled taut as he readies himself for the blow of the whistle.

As it sounds, he's off and it's like it's done already.

He feels the water as he moves; hell, he _is_ the water. His body responds so well, his broad shoulders pulling the water with his arms and his strong legs kicking up a storm as he goes.

He's at the wall quickly, never slowing down until he's touching, having to contain the energy left. Liam touches a few seconds later and Marina soon after but he's anxious as Coach Mayne stops his watch.

“Marina, 29.04; Liam, 27.67; and Harry... 23.02.”

Harry feels his heart stop because it's a millisecond off his best time and in training he could never go under twenty-four.

“Woo! Go, Haz! Twenty-three? Woo!” he hears from the stands and his face lights up into a smile.

He turns his head to look and sees the cheering lad jumping in the stands, glasses falling off his face and grin wide. He laughs when he sees him, because Louis manages to also watch him every day, _in training._

He makes the time to support him and brings his books to the stands to half study and half cheer.

Harry loves him so much.

He's climbing out soon, hugging his teammates as they all congratulate him. It's the first time he thinks he's actually going to make Regionals again.

He knows the 50 free won't be enough, but that's the fastest he's ever gone in training and trials are in two weeks. He feels ready.

In the locker room he's greeted by his favourite cheerleader and he's pulled into a big hug. He's wet, water dripping everywhere but Louis just holds on tighter as they rock from side to side.

“Oh my god, Harry. We're going to regionals!” He says as he pulls back and Harry can't help but smile with him.

“That was just training, who knows how I'll do at the meet-.”

Louis cuts him off with a kiss. “Don't even start with that negative bullshit. You're Harry Styles.”

Harry has his hands on his waist and he pulls him closer, nuzzling his face into his neck in embarrassment. “I can't help it, Lou.’M nervous.”

Louis hugs him tighter despite the awkward position, Harry's tall lanky frame draped over his own. “Hey, you'll be fine. Now eat your protein bar and let's call your mom.”

Harry pulls back and rolls his eyes, because _of course_ Louis has to take on the role as his personal trainer, but he's still smiling.

“Let me just shower first.”

When he's done he packs up his bag, shares a hug with some of his teammates and steps outside. When he’s out he’s greeted with Louis and his mum, both wearing excited looks on their faces.

“Harry!” His mum squeals as she sees him and he's enveloped into a hug.

“Hey mum,” he says as he returns it.

“Louis told me about today and, wow, you're a very talented boy, aren't you?”

Harry blushes because, well, it's his mum. He's preening from the attention. “Yeah, yeah. I feel a bit more ready for trials.”

Anne rolls her eyes at the same time Louis does because they both knew who they're talking about.

Louis moves up to them, handing Harry his protein bar with a scolding look in his eyes. Harry pecks him on the cheek as he accepts it, opening it up quickly and shoving into his mouth.

Louis holds his hand on the way to the car, pretending as if he's actually going home with them, which he probably is.

Harry holds on just as tight. He's one of his great loves, after all.

*

_They met when they were kids._

*

Harry first started swimming when he was five.

It was a bit ironic, due to the fact that his mother only sent him after a near drowning experience but it turned out for the better.

He'd taken to it immediately, getting the strokes and the basics down, and in a year he was a star.

He was that little boy in the eight and under category who'd be in the final heat and at times winning events of his own.

He remembers meeting Louis when they were both seven, Louis having just joined the club. Louis was already a more advanced swimmer so he never had to go through the learn-to-swim program, leaving more time for them to play together.

They've always been best friends, even in competitions when Louis would get the gold and Harry the silver, and they'd just high five across lanes.

Louis knows he was quite a good swimmer in his childhood, remembering all the events he'd win, all the relays he and Harry would be on.

He also knows the reason why he stopped.

When he was eleven, Harry started to grow and he, well, didn't. Harry's body grew longer, his shoulders broader and his body was just built for swimming. Louis’s, not so much.

Soon, Harry was passing him in training and he'd end up in the second to last heat while Harry would remain in the last. It was like no matter how hard he trained, he couldn't keep up.

It wasn't even the other kids that were the problem, he just couldn't keep up with _Harry_ anymore. So he quit.

Looking back now, Louis finds his reason a bit silly since no one can keep up with Harry, but he figures that the competition between them would only grow if he continued, and he knows how it could have kept them from being as close as they are now.

They first kissed when they were fourteen, cooped up on Louis's bed as they nervously pressed their lips together before jumping apart in fear.

Louis feels like laughing now about how they had tried to pretend like it didn't happen, but by the time they were fifteen they were kissing constantly whenever they were alone.

They're really close now, Harry's lips pressed to Louis's, who’s pressed against Harry's door. Harry has him successfullypinned and it annoys him a bit, but Harry's just naturally _big_ and he can't really help it.

Harry eventually pulls them away, lips still locked as they manoeuver around the room. Louis winces as he’s pushed against the closet door, medals clanking.

“Sorry,” Harry mutters as he pulls him off, rubbing his back gently. They finally make it to the bed, where they resume their kissing with Louis seated in his lap and his arms wrapped around his neck.

They both feel themselves growing harder and they give in to their desires, both grinding on each other as their breathing gets heavier and kissing more frantic.

A knock on the door, however, has them pulling away too quickly. Louis jumps off, wiping at his mouth as he takes his own seat on the bed. Harry blushes as he shouts a quick “Come in” that has the door opening almost immediately.

Anne walks in and raises her brow as the two flushed boys before her but decides not to comment on it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she stops to smirk at the embarrassed pair. “But, H, you have training at five in the morning. You need to sleep, hun.”

“But mum,” Harry whines but they all know it's useless.

“No, Harry. Homework now,” she says before walking out again.

Louis lets out a laugh to which Harry looks at him incredulously. “It's not funny! I don't want to wake up so early.”

It's Louis's turn to raise his brow as he stops laughing to face him. “Oh really now. We all know how much you get off training, especially in extreme situations.”

Harry looks mock offended before he's nodding his head slowly and yawning. “Yeah, yeah. Let's just... do some homework.”

“Well yeah,” Louis says, moving off of the bed and over to the desk full of trophies, swim caps and goggles. He almost laughs at how Harry's life revolves around swimming.

He darts his eyes to the bed posts, where even more medals are hanging and he sees Harry's face set in concentration as he rushes whatever essay he has for tomorrow and Louis's face falls.

He knows how special swimming is to Harry but it's just so hard to accept it when he's kind of just there. Harry's always off to meets across the world and making the national junior team, winning Regionals and breaking records and he's just _so talented._

Just last week he went to Miami to go shopping! For suits!

When he's not up at four in the morning to train he's in school. When he's not in school, he's training. When he's not training, he has to study.

The only free day he has is Sunday, and if it's not a meet he's normally too tired to do anything but _sleep._

So Louis's jealous of swimming- even though it's probably been the best thing to happen to Harry, ever. But that's the problem because it's not him, as selfish as it sounds.

He wants all of Harry's attention, but Harry barely has attention for himself.

Louis' brought out of his thoughts when he hears Harry call his name. “You okay?” he's asking and he makes it so hard to be mad at him.

“Yeah, just tired.” He mumbles and he knows Harry doesn't believe him but the athletic lad is already yawning, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to fight sleep.

Louis's about to speak but he notices how Harry's body has gone slack and his eyes squeezed shut.

He almost pulls out his hair, because the first thing he thinks is 'Stupid wanker didn't have dinner first.'

Louis quit swimming years ago but through Harry he feels the stress of it on himself.

He packs up his bag and leaves the room, saying bye to Anne before starts on his way home.

He's kind of just there.

*

At lunch they sit with their friends which, since they've been in swimming all their lives, comprises of swimmers.

Harry and Louis practically sit on each other's lap while whoever is brave enough takes the seat beside them and everyone else scatters around the big table, which they've been at for about three years now.

Liam's the unlucky one today but luckily he has Niall on his other side to keep him distracted from whatever antics they're getting up to. Zayn, Marina, Danielle and Josh are all on the other side of the table.

Trials start tomorrow and Louis knows that Harry's been getting into the competition mode. He also knows he's nervous and probably psyching himself out but he knows it's in Harry's nature to worry.

Everyone else is more excited about taper more than anything else but Louis's sure that they all hope they make it to Regionals themselves.

“So Harry,” Zayn starts. “What time do you hope to get for the fifty?” Zayn's not a swimmer, _definitely not a swimmer_ , seeing as he'd probably drown if they put him in the training pool, but he's been Louis' best mate since high school began so he basically joined in the group in no time.

It's a regular question for any swimmer but Harry really thinks about it. Louis notices the look on his face, the one that ranges to rational thought to doubt and then finally to irrational thought.

“Well,” Harry clears his throat, having been silent the whole time, “I was hoping I could go under twenty-three, because Junior World's is near and I'm only a B time and-.”

“Whoa there, Haz,” Liam interrupts. “One step at a time. Your training times are good enough for Regionals, you're going to make it definitely. Plus fifty free isn't even your best event.”

Harry nods, a bit too nervously for Louis's liking, but he knows how stubborn Harry can be.

Harry's probably best at breastroke more than any other stroke and he's definitely a shoe in for those events with a more than sufficient time of 27:95 in the fifty, 1:00:89 in the hundred and 2:11:76 in the two hundred. He was winning these events in Junior World's last year, he really has nothing to worry about.

Louis knows that Harry worries about doing the times again in Trials but they all know that it's really just his incessant worrying before a big meet.

“I'm trying to make for free,” Marina adds but they all roll their eyes knowing she's one of the best freestylers of their state.

They all talk about events and times and eventually Harry loosens up, joining in the conversation.

Louis feels relaxed in this environment, where they're talking about a big meet and Harry's not dying from his usual anxiety. It's nice to see Harry give confident answers about his events and times.

It's different and it's nice, but Louis doesn't like different. It scares him, especially with Harry since he never knows which swim camp he's going off to or which famous coach wants to work with him. It makes him feel like he's losing him and it's _scary_ for him because he's known Harry for so long.

They're just so used to each other that anything that can separate them, they try to reject.

After school, Louis pulls Harry away before he can rush off to training, kisses him hard and punches him in the shoulder.

“Hey-.” Harry starts to protest before he's kissed again.

“You're on taper, Haz. Trials are tomorrow, don't push yourself.”

 

Harry pouts in disagreement but he knows he's right, “What would I do without you?”

Louis shrugs. “Probably drown.”

Harry laughs before he's pulling him to himself, leaning down for another kiss. “You're probably right.”

“I always am.” Harry laughs.

“I’ve got to go train. You don't just make Regionals by showing up!” He laughs as he jogs down the hallways.

Louis smiles.

*

The first day of Trials goes well.

Harry does too well.

Day one starts with more long distance courses than short ones, and Harry already wowed them all in the backstroke. It's normally not his best but in the two hundred he ends up on top, winning gold with an A time. He finally breaks the two minute barrier in the two hundred individual medley, winning while gaining an A time good enough for Junior World's.

After a diva fit over being entered into the four hundred free, he ends up qualifying much to his own surprise but not too much of everyone else's.

Harry's last event for the night is fifty breast, and he's panicking. He's in the bathroom, face covered in tears while his teammates try to get a hold of him.

Louis rushes in once he hears and he's pushing everyone else off to get to him. “Hey, Haz, it's okay,” he's whispering as soon as everyone's backed off, but Harry's still breathing heavily.

“I-It's not, it's not,” he shakes his head frantically but Louis' trying to calm him down. “Get his inhaler,” he says to Zayn who rushes off in pursuit of it.

“Hey, come on, just tell me what's wrong. Swimming is your life, isn't it? This is what you want, isn't it?”

Harry wipes at his eyes as he tries to slow his breathing. “It's gone too well. The night's gone too well, I'm going to mess up.”

“No, no,” Louis hushes him. “No, you're not. Just- Relax, please.”

Zayn comes back and hands Louis the inhaler but he only passes it on to Harry, who takes it with shaky hands.

“Brendan is going to beat me,” he lets out after one puff. “He's going to beat me.”

Brendan is Harry's biggest competition in breastroke, often coming too close to him for Harry's liking, but he doesn't beat him, he never does.

“No way, babe. No way is Brendan going to beat you. You've got this in the bag.”

Harry's sniffling now, breathing harshly, having calmed down and tears having stopped flowing. He reaches into his track bottoms to pull out a paper and as soon as Louis catches sight of it, he's seething.

He grabs it and scans over it quickly seeing the contents which would surely get Harry this wound up.

“A _Psych Sheet._ Harry, these things are made to wind you up.” Louis tries, but even _he_ remembers the dangers of Psych Sheets.

It's a thing that's done where times are printed out, some right and some wrong; it's made with the intention of psyching someone out, hence the name.

On this specific one, it has Brendan a millisecond off from Harry in the fifty breast and it makes so much more sense to him now.

“Harry, you know you should disregard them. You're way ahead of Brendan, don't even sweat it. Now we have an event to go before yours, think you can get back up for it?”

Harry's sniffling still, feeling incredibly embarrassed over freaking out over a psych sheet, but it happens to everyone at some point. He's smiling now, showing off his dimples but Louis can still see the fear behind his eyes.

“Hey, no matter what happens tonight, I love you so much. I don't know how much that means to you but-.”

Harry's eyes widen as he speaks but before any of them can say anything, his name's being shouted and they're both looking up towards the voice. Their coach is waiting, Harry needing to get down to the marshal area. Harry's getting up though, head back in the game, grabbing his cap, goggles, and headphones to prepare for his heat.

Louis can only watch as he leaves and feel like an idiot.

Louis goes back to the stands where his mum and Harry's are sitting excitedly as the heats go by, the final one coming up soon.

Louis wants to be excited but he just _can't._ They've said 'I love you' so many times before, but it's never been like that, and Harry had just gotten up and _left._ He understands that Harry has to swim, but it's all he ever has to do.

Louis feels like his whole life revolves around Harry and Harry's life revolves around swimming. It feels so fucking unfair yet he knows he's just being selfish.

He's snapped back to reality when he hears cheers from their team's tent, and he looks up to see Harry and the other being led up to the blocks.

Harry's lane four, of course, having the fastest time but Brendan's right beside him in lane five. He has his headphones on, and his face seems set, no hint of any emotion on his face. He doesn't even look around him.

He's stripping himself of his track suit, laying them out on the chairs provided and then is stretching, muscles clenching as he works them. Louis would find it hot; however, since he's under such stress he can only feel worried.

The whistle is blown and they're stepping up, Harry doing a few last jumps to wake up his body. Louis notices how the other boys seem worried, probably psyched by Harry. It's like he hadn't just been crying about fifteen minutes ago.

They're stepping up onto the block, Harry on his mark before even being told. He's completely still, but muscled up ready to begin.

“On your marks.”

The crowd holds their breath.

“Set.”

Then the light goes, and so does Harry.

His form is impeccable, his pull out underwater, pushing him ahead already and as he emerges, he's fighting. Every kick follows his pull in perfect timing, and it seems as if there's no one else there. He's just Harry doing Harry.

Louis almost feels to cry.

Their tent is wild with cheers, everyone waving as if they're pushing him along and they're all in hysterics. Louis's watching the board for the time, eyes completely off of the water.

He sees Harry's lane's time stop, then he hears roaring cheers, and then the time pops up.

27:94.

Louis only blinks. Harry bettered his time. He more than qualified, for the fifty breast. He's qualified for the fourth time. On day one.

Harry's climbing out, grinning widely and strutting proudly to the showers, washing off even though he knows all eyes are on him. Louis watches him go to the locker rooms and he wants to go congratulate him there, but he feels strangely sick.

He asks his mum to go home, telling her he feels too poorly to stay any longer. She lets him go, knowing that he always wants to stay for Harry.

He goes home and cries too much for his own liking.

He's not exactly sure why any of this is a problem. He knows how much Harry loves swimming, he's heard the lad go on about it for years. He's heard how much he loves the burn after a long day of training, or the anxiety before a big race. Harry loves everything about swimming. The good and the bad things, and it's something Louis wants. To be loved for his good and bad things.

It's ridiculous that he's jealous of a sport but he can't help it sometimes, the way he's starting to crave for Harry's attention more and more.

He figures that maybe they're getting older and their relationship isn't as childish as it used to be. He just wants a healthy and stable relationship with him, and he's positive he already has it, but he just can't help feeling that something's missing.

He hates even more that he's blaming Harry for it.

His phone is vibrating but he ignores, thinking that he deserves a little alone time, especially if it's from Harry.

He works his schedule perfectly for it to coincide with Harry's, and this one time he wants to be selfish. He wants to ignore him on what's supposed to be a great night for him.

He feels like a prick but he also feels it's justified.

*

He wakes up the next morning with too many missed calls and texts. Mostly from Harry, but others from his friends.

_'Hey babe, heard you were sick :('_

_'I made my time!!! I feel great :)'_

_'Couldn't have done it without you'_

 

_'Are you okay, Lou?'_

_'Please pick up, I can't sleeeeeppp if I don't hear from you'_

_'Lou :('_

Louis feels like shit for keeping Harry up waiting for him, but sometimes he needs time for himself. _Not Harry._

It's seven in the morning and day two's going to begin for Harry. He pulls himself out of bed and into his shower and actually contemplates not going.

He knows he has to, though; this morning's the two hundred breast and hundred back, since apparently Harry's a backstroker now.

He has to go.

He hauls himself out and throws on clothes, and tries to fix his countenance as he goes downstairs. His mother is waiting for him, already ready to go as he packs lunch for them to have later.

“Feeling better?” She asks when she sees him and Louis can only mutter his yes before getting another text.

_'Bout to start warm up. Please tell me you're fine :('_

Louis groans and puts his head in his hands when he's seated at the counter. He's being such a dick.

At the aquatic center, he arrives while the warm-up is going on. He identifies their usual two lanes and Harry’s, of course, leading.

He takes a seat in the stands beside his mother and Anne who promptly asks him if he's alright. After brushing off her concerns, he notices the team getting out and heading for the locker rooms. He should go and wish them good luck, but he feels too down right now.

He distracts himself by playing games on his phone and soon enough the team is coming back. He keeps his head down although he can feel all of their eyes on him, but he just can't right now.

He feels someone sit next to him and as he smells that familiar scent always tainted with chlorine, he knows who it is.

He keeps looking down, too ashamed to say anything else. He knows all of their friends watching, noticing they’re tense right now.

“I see your phone's working,” Harry says, voice low but no hint of malice is in his tone.

“Yeah,” Louis mutters out, still not able to face him.

“Why didn't you answer my texts?” Harry asks next.

“Didn't know what to say,” Louis answers honestly, ashamed of how easily he knew it.

“Oh,” is all he gets back and there's an awkward silence before Harry's breaking it again. “Did I do something wrong?”

Louis turns to look at him finally seeing how distressed he looks yet is still masked to everyone else, just not to Louis.

“I know it's the worst question to ask, but I don't know what happened. I wanted to celebrate it with you- my fifty breast, that is. I wanted to share that moment with you but you were gone. I did a great time, I qualified and I-.”

“Why don't you focus on your other events?” Louis cuts him off a little bit too harshly, but they can't have this conversation now. Not when there's so many people around and especially not when Harry needs to be focused.

Harry looks hurt and he looks down to his lap before he speaks again. “I'm sorry.”

Louis feels the guilt already. “No- Just, focus please, Haz. We'll talk about it after the meet. Just do your thing. I'm here, I'm not leaving again.”

Harry nods and reaches out to grab his hand, ignoring the slight flinch he feels from him.

They hold hands until Harry needs to leave.

Harry sheds off a few milliseconds in the two hundred breast and wins. Louis feels himself slipping away every step of the way.

Harry makes a B time in the one hundred back and if he's lucky, it's enough to make it.

Louis doesn't think about how many events he's qualified for already. It's enough to send him to Regionals, his times are good enough for _Junior World's,_ and Louis feels nervous with every millisecond Harry takes off.

It's like he loses a part of him with it.

In the afternoon session, Harry decimates the four hundred Individual medley, just like he did the two hundred, adding another event under his belt.

He shocks in the hundred free when he breaks the fifty second mark and gets a 49:97. Louis hears rumors that they're going to check him for drugs, that at the rate he's going, he'll be on the National Team instead of Junior's.

He feels like he loses him so much more.

On day three, Harry comes suited in his tightest pair of Speedo jammers, his body somehow looking even sleeker.

He, of course, wins and qualifies for the hundred breast and all he has left is the fifty free. Harry's been in his game all day, knowing all the scouts present are watching to see what he'll do in the fifty free.

There's no doubt he's made Regionals, but now that he's done it, he's made a bigger challenge for himself. Louis can see he's starting to worry again so he goes to where he's isolated in one end of the stands and lays down, head in his lap.

Soon enough, he feels Harry's hand combing through his hair. They both feel like time is moving way too slowly, like it should be time for the competition already, but they're just there. Harry's covered up, bottle of water beside him to keep hydrated, headphones over his ears keeping him occupied while his boyfriend lies with his head in his lap.

It's somehow calming to them both what their presences do for each other.

Time for the competition comes, however, and Harry gets up to make his way down, but to Louis's surprise he kisses him first, holding onto him for a while before he's stepping away to do his thing.

Louis watches as Harry does what he always does. He goes under the twenty three, clocking in at 22:96.

Harry swims the two hundred relay with Niall, Liam and Josh, and they win, making it a glorious meet for their team, coming out on top in the state.

Harry's definitely going to Regionals, Liam and Niall too, and Louis's kind of just there.

He goes home with Harry like he normally does after a meet and feels the tension in the car as Anne drives them.

Louis sits nervously on Harry's bed while he's showering and he's wondering what the hell he's going to say. After meets, their parents normally leave them alone for intimate activities but he knows they're supposed to talk. He wants to talk.

So he doesn't understand why he feels the need to take the easy way out and just get Harry to fuck him instead.

Harry comes out, towel hanging low on his hips, allowing Louis to run his eyes all over his muscular body. Harry makes no move to get dressed though, but he makes his way to Louis's side and sits, before falling back and sighing dramatically.

Louis mimics him, letting out an overzealous sigh and flopping onto his back beside him.

He turns to face Harry who's already looking at him and they both just stare until Louis decides to just get it over with.

“Today's supposed to be a happy day for you. And I've gone and ruined it with my sour mood.”

Harry frowns as he stares back at him. “What do you mean?”

Louis gets up too quickly, almost losing his balance as he sits up. “Harry, you undeniably made Regionals, bettered almost all your times plus did times more than suitable for Junior World's. _And you're training for Regionals._ We should be fucking like crazy right now but I've ruined the whole weekend because of my stupid feelings.”

Harry sits up with him and takes his hand before he speaks. “Your feelings aren't stupid, Louis...”

“They are compared to everything else!” He says and Harry's face hardens.

“No they're not, you're just as important as-.”

“But I'm not, Harry. It's all about swimming, it's all about you. You're a prodigy, you're expected to be on the National Team instead of Junior’s, and you’re expected to make World's and then the Olympics two years from now. And you train with your high school team. You don't do world level training, yet there you were last year at Junior World's winning breast. Scouts everywhere want you! Of course my feelings aren't important!”

Harry's eyes soften and Louis knows he's right when Harry doesn't even try to argue with him.

He does, however, feel Harry move closer to him, lifting his head up by his chin to kiss him sweetly on the lips. “Swimming is so important to me, Lou, but so are you. I care so much about your feelings. Fuck, how'd I not see you fretting over this? I'm so sorry, Louis. I'll make it up to you-.”

“I told you I love you,” Louis squeaks out, eyes staring towards his lap. “I told you I love you and you just left and I know you had to but you forgot. You forgot because you were so high off swimming, it didn't even matter.”

Harry's eyes widen considerably as he remembers and then he's stuttering out an apology. “No- Wait, yes- Well, I love you too. Yeah, I love you too. I love you so much and, um, I'm sorry. It's just, there's no excuse. But I was pumped on adrenaline. I'm sorry, it was a meet weekend, you know my head's not in its place and-.”

“You really love me?” Louis interrupts not so much caring for the rambling.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles. “So much.”

He figures that maybe it's all that matters.

Louis kisses him and Harry kisses back, towel falling off as they roll around on the bed.

Harry fucks him slow and deep, relishing every moan and every gasp that Louis emits until they're both coming, Harry in the condom and Louis on both their chests.

It's so perfect.

*

_Harry loves swimming and Louis loves Harry._

*

Harry wins top swimmer at Regionals. He's invited to the National Trials.

*

Harry's training is stepped up, since he's training for a spot on the National Swim Team.

He's already made the Junior's Team, he's captain even and with his times he's expected to do so well. It's hosted in Dubai this year and Harry's more than excited.

Harry doesn't do morning training with the team anymore, but instead has a personal coach who specifically trains prospective swimmers. He has to train at four thirty instead of five in the morning just for the extra time and team training has been stepped up a notch since so many of them did well at Regionals.

He does weight training Monday and Saturday afternoons, and school's stepped up too and Harry's stressed.

He swims just as well as before, but he's constantly training here and then there; suddenly his diet has changed significantly as well and life is just so different.

Harry doesn't even bother to do homework, opting to sleep as soon as he was home (after being forced to eat).

He and Louis mainly get to speak in class and at lunch, barely after school, so they try their best to spend Saturday nights and Sundays together.

Their relationship is strangely unaffected by the change but Louis feels different about swimming now.

At first, it was his love, then it was his burden, then it wasn't his trouble, then it was his center of his support, but he feels different now.

Whenever he watches Harry at his team training, he wishes he could be there instead. He wishes he could be right up there with him like when they were kids. He doesn't want to just watch Harry swim anymore, he wants to swim with him.

It's way too late for him to ever catch up and he could never try with Harry, the boy making improvements like it's nothing and shedding off those small but important milliseconds, doing personal bests in training.

He's gone with him to training for Junior's once, and he was leading the team, he was the star.

Harry's a star and Louis wants to shine with him.

It's a Sunday and Harry's a bit sore from weight training the night before, so they're taking it easy for a while.

They do homework for a while but eventually, as teenage boys, they get horny.

Louis sucks him off while Harry can only remain still as the boy takes him in deeply and he's about to come when Louis pulls off, leaving him a frustrated mess on the bed.

“Lou,” he whines because he's so sore but he needs to come _now_ and the only one who can help him is retreating from him.

Louis returns with lube and a condom, though, slipping it onto Harry's length before slicking up his fingers.

He turns so his backside faces Harry, then starts with one finger. Harry can only watch, mesmerized as Louis _fingers_ himself in front of him.

He's up to two fingers now, moaning softly as Harry watches, cock throbbing in desire.

When he has three of his fingers steadily pumping in himself, he pulls them out and turns back to Harry, smirk evident on his face.

“Fuck,” Harry moans as Louis lubes up his cock. “You're going to kill me, aren't you?”

Louis moves to arse positioned over Harry's cock as he slowly pushes himself down. “Ah- Got to keep you alive for, ah, World's.”

Harry groans, both in pleasure and annoyance. “Don't want to think about training now- fuck Lou- just want you.”

Louis's bouncing steadily now, savoring the feeling of Harry inside of him as he pleasures them both with his small but deep bounces.

Harry's coming first with what Louis thinks is a whine before he's grabbing Louis's cock in his palm and jerking him off fast. Louis comes a few moments late, spilling onto Harry's naked chest.

“Oh, that was so good,” Harry comments and Louis smiles as he rolls to lie beside him.

“Junior’s is in two weeks,” Louis sleepily mumbles and Harry hums from beside him.

“Yeah. I'm more excited than nervous this time. What's wrong with me?”

Louis thinks about it. “Well, considering you won three gold last year plus you have the leading times, you're probably just overconfident.”

“Anton Bogomolov is just a millisecond off my qualifying time, he could beat me in the breast.”

Louis hums. “Well, that's the qualifying times. I'm sure he's been doing world training for a while now. Other than for last year's World's, this is the first you've ever consistently trained for such an event.”

Harry smiles. “You're going to fill my head, you know? Make it swell real big.”

Louis pushes himself up, braced on his elbows. “You have real talent, Harry. I know I wish I did.”

Harry looks at him a bit stunned by the confession. “Oh, come on, Lou. I remember when you'd kick my arse in fly, it was so embarrassing. You shouldn't have stopped, I'd bet you'd be right up here with me.”

Louis wants to laugh and agree, but he knows it's not true. He stopped because Harry had so much more potential than he did. He couldn't handle seeing himself crash and burn, so he quit while he was ahead.

He just wishes he had tried instead.

He shrugs to cover up his feelings on the inside. “Doesn't matter, I guess. I wouldn't want us to be rivals anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry says. “Just wish you could come with me to World's.”

Louis wishes he could too.

*

It's a week away from Junior’s when Harry has an accident.

Everyone knows how hard Harry trains, always putting the best of his efforts, even in warming down.

So he works himself hard one day in Junior World's Team Training when he feels it.

He's leading the group in a set consisting of butterfly which, considering it isn't anywhere his best, he has to work harder than usual. Training with this team, he never leads by that much of a distance and today he's just not cutting it out.

David Marsh, the best flyer in his group, is on his tail and Harry can't have that. He speeds up past his recommended pace and the set is nowhere finished. He starts to lose David a bit, but he feels a tightening in his chest.

He tries to ignore it and keeps going, but it only grows tighter and tighter. He finally touches the wall, finishing the set, but he finds himself coughing.

His throat and chest feel closed and he just can’t breathe. His vision goes blurry as he coughs and with every huff he feels worse.

People are calling out to him but he can't focus because what he needs now is _air._

He's being hauled out of the pool and he hears murmurs everywhere but all he can think about is air and how good it would feel in his lungs. Something's being pushed inside his mouth and then there's what he's being waiting force.

Air is puffed in, and then more.

Then he feels his senses slowly returning and his breathing return to normal.

He feels weak, having gone so long without breathing but he sits up to see the coach on deck along with the rest of the team and the few spectators. He feels tears well up in embarrassment but from what he can gather, he knows he had an asthma attack.

His mum is going to kill him.

Louis is going to _kill him._

“Harry!” He hears the screech, and he knows he'll die by his mother's hand first.

He looks up to see her pushing through the crowd and then kneeling beside him where the coach also is.

“What happened? Did you go off your pace, swallow water? You haven't had an attack in years!” It's not exactly true. He gets attacks when he gets too nervous, but training wise he hasn't had troubles for years indeed.

He splutters a bit when he speaks. “Went off my pace a bit.”

The coach shakes his head. “Harry, you have no business speeding up your pace, especially in the stroke we're not working on.”

“I know, I know,” he shakes his head. “I just really wanted to stay in the lead for my group.”

“You're lucky that our best at butterfly weren't in your lane. You can't kill yourself over this, Harry. You should be tapering down anyway, not trying to push your limits.” Coach Hayne, Junior's National Coach says.

His mother's face is set and he knows he's in a lot of trouble. “Are you okay, though, love?”

Harry nods, he feels fine minus a bit of unease, and he feels like he can get back into the water. “Yeah, yeah.’M fine.”

“You _what?_ ” Louis shouts, gaining the attention from the rest of the cafeteria.

The rest of their group is trying to maintain a straight face, but they all can't contain the laughter within them.

“You're supposed to be on taper and you try to kill yourself a week before World's?” Louis's fuming while Harry sits shyly beside him with a blush.

“Don't say it like I did it on purpose. I was being competitive and I got carried away.”

Louis shakes his head, obviously still irate. “Harry, you can't do shit like that! A week before a big competition, too? Gosh, you're so stupid.”

Harry has the decency to look a little bit ashamed but he's smiling soon enough. “Thanks for the lecture, _mum_ , but I'm fine.”

Louis' eyes soften a bit before he's rolling them in annoyance. “God, if I could swim like you, I wouldn't be-.” He catches himself before he could finish, but he's pretty sure Harry's caught it.

He turns to face the lad and sees him staring at him intently.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, brows furrowed in a question, but Louis quickly changes the topic. “So lads! Did you hear about Mrs. Sully's divorce?”

Everyone jumps to speak at once and Harry's question is lost in the chaos.

*

Competition starts in three days and Harry's leaving in a few hours. Louis goes with Anne to the airport where they're guided to where the athletes are to be dropped off.

It's a flurry of swimmers, all identified by their USA track suits and of course, the distinct swimmer physique. Tall and slender with broad shoulders. Harry fits in too well.

Harry kisses his mum goodbye before hugging Louis tightly, burrowing his face into his feathery hair.

“Win something for me,” Louis says when they pull away and Harry smiles at him.

“More than one thing,” Harry cheekily replies.

He stays with Anne until all the athletes are ushered inside. He watches Harry go and wishes he could be right there with him.

*

Louis watches the first day of competition on television.

Harry makes finals in the four hundred individual medley and the two hundred breast. With top times.

Louis knows Harry has more events the next day but he feels so happy already because his boyfriend has made the finals _twice_ already.

On day two he makes the one hundred breast, hundred free, fifty breast and almost makes the two hundred back finals.

In the afternoon, there's the finals that Harry made the day before.

The whole team is squashed in Harry's living room as they bite their nails in anticipation. Louis seems to be the calmest, curled up on the edge of the couch with Niall squashing him.

There's chatter around him, everyone talking about it while Jay tries to keep Anne sane in the kitchen.

“You think he can do it?” Liam asks and he receives scoffs in return.

“He did it when he was sixteen, he can definitely do it again,” Danielle says with a roll of her eyes.

“Oi,” Niall shouts. “Don't jinx it please.”

“I don't think any amount of jinx can curse Harry.” Their coach supplies which receives too many nods for Louis's liking.

They're all ruining it.

“Hey, Lou?” Zayn says, having Louis raise his head to regard him. “Suffering on your own over there?”

Louis cracks a smile because that's exactly what he's doing. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

They're all interrupted when they see the four hundred IM about to start.

They cheer obnoxiously when Harry's brought out, lane three for the third fastest time. Louis watches him on the screen, headphones on his head as usual as he tries to block out the world. He strips and then stretches as usual.

They're on the blocks, and then they're off.

Harry goes out hard and it makes Louis nervous. He's in second and the team is cheering loudly as if they were in Dubai. In the back he keeps up, but Bogomolov is still ahead of him.

Louis's biting his nails off.

They go into the breast almost simultaneously and this is Harry's chance. He's going well, but so is Bogomolov of Russia and they're back for the freestyle side by side.

The house is so noisy now and Louis can see Anne clutching her heart from the corner of his eyes.

He can't stop watching the time, because Bogmolov is slightly ahead of him and they're so close to the end.

Harry gets second, Bogmolov winning with a time of 4:15:57 three milliseconds less than Harry's time.

Harry looks so happy and if he is, then Louis is too.

Everyone's nervous for the two hundred breast since Anton Bogmolov was so close to Harry.

There seems to be friendly competition between them, but Louis knows that Harry's probably psyching himself off as they speak. Louis only hopes he sticks to the damn headphones instead of the crying.

It's time and Louis's relieved to see Harry's game face, but Louis notices the red eyes and- fuck- he's been crying.

He puts on his cap and goggles and stretches, ready to swim.

Louis's gripping onto Niall's hand too tightly.

Harry goes out as he normally would and Louis's happy that Harry is. He knows how he can get nervous and change his plan, but he's sticking to the one that won him last year.

Bogmolov is close but Harry doesn't seem concerned, keeping up his pace and slight lead.

They're on the third lap when things start to shake up. Bogmolov makes his move and picks up, taking slight lead from Harry.

Louis thinks he's destroyed Niall's hand by this point. He doesn't want to look at Anne.

In the last lap it's close but Harry's starting to push, and it works.

He pushes ahead on the turn and they all know he's going to win, twenty five meters into the last lap, he creates more of a distance between them and he's touching the wall.

2:10:74.

It's a Junior World's record.

The room is in shambles, everyone screaming for joy in the excitement.

Louis thinks Anne has fainted and his mum is trying to get her conscious again.

Harry's made record. _He's made a record._

Harry looks absolutely joyous on the screen, cap and goggles torn off as he sits on the lane divider, fist in the air as the crowd cheers for him.

He gets out of the water.

 _He shakes hands with all the competitors_ , and it's so _Harry_ , Louis doesn't even think of it.

They get the call ten minutes later, Harry being allowed a few minutes and Louis listens to Anne cry on the phone with her son.

He smiles at the sight but can't help but feel disappointed at the fact that it's not him.

He feels a tap on his shoulder, though and it's Anne, phone still clutched in her hand. He smiles at her as he takes it, moving to the kitchen.

“Haz,” he breathes out as he puts the phone to his ear and he hears Harry _giggle._

“Louis, I _won._ ”

Louis rolls his eyes, because of course he did. “Yeah, I saw. Television and all.”

“I have to go soon, but oh my god, I miss you so much.” Harry breathes excitedly and Louis can hear the adrenaline pumping in Harry's veins.

He laughs softly. “I'm so proud, Harry. Just don't let it get to your head, yeah? Got to win some other stuff too.”

“But Louuuuu,” Harry whines. “I can't. I made a _record._ You're going to have to be my bitch for weeks.”

Louis scoffs at the suggestion, waving his hand in dismissal although Harry can't see it. “Please.”

Harry laughs again, high off his own energy. “I need to go, Lou. But I'll text you.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Harry.”

“Tell the team hi for me,” he says before he hangs up and Louis feels the disappointment return.

How can he feel so _melancholic_ at a time like this? His boyfriend just won gold and set a record.

Then he remembers his jealousy. His completely silly, unjustifiable yet human jealousy.

He feels ashamed.

Harry texts him that night.

_Louuuuuu Cullen Jones was at dinner and he shook my hand called me great. I'll be wanking with this hand for years!!!!!!_

Louis laughs at his enthusiasm and shakes his hand in slight disappointment. He wishes he could have shook hands with Cullen Jones.

*

_Harry does too well._

_*_

Harry wins some more.

More being gold in hundred breast, silver in hundred free and fifty breast, and bronze in the fifty free. Not to mention Team USA winning all the short distance relays with Harry, of course, on the team.

It's great when he comes back, grinning widely with medals dangling around his neck only to be trampled by almost the whole team waiting at the airport.

Louis has to wait last, but when he gets his arms around him, he feels so at home. Cuddled under his arm with the scent of chlorine that’s always associated with Harry lingering around him and it feels so natural, so _perfect._

They hold hands on the drive home and Harry's smiling so widely, it's contagious. He's received too many congratulations, Louis's sure that if he were him, he'd be upset by it now.

But Harry _loves_ it.

At the end of the day, they get some alone time and Louis takes him out.

They get ice cream and eat in a park. Harry's playing around, trying to eat his ice cream with his head in Louis's lap. Louis only rolls his eyes at him and tries his best not to get any of his on Harry, but he makes no promises.

“Soooo,” Harry drawls and Louis can hear how excited he still is. “How have you been?”

Louis smiles, because Harry's been thinking about him. He shrugs, because the past week has just been _HarryHarryHarry_ and it's not like it never always is, but he likes Harry, loves him even. So hearing so much about him and not being able to see him has put him off.

“Been watching you I guess,” Louis settles on, not sure what he wants him to say.

Harry frowns a bit, sitting up on the bench. “What does that mean?”

He sounds pretty offended and Louis silently curses himself for saying the wrong thing. “Nothing. Just- This week has been about you going to World's. At school, at home, with friends. I mean, I was too nervous to do anything else.”

Harry's frown eases a bit but he shake it off, before smiling again. “Okay. Well, I get a week break before I'm back in training. You know, training for the National Team and all.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but it's not playful this time.

Harry notices.

He furrows his brows and he actually looks upset. “What is your problem today? Did I do something?”

 _Yes_ , Louis thinks but he bites his lip to keep it in. He turns to face Harry too and he's sure he's glaring as well. “No, Harry. Just, calm down.”

Harry laughs, but it's bitter. “What the fuck, Louis? What do you want from me? Tell me, I'd really like to be enlightened.”

 _You,_ Louis wants to scream but he doesn't know how to say it, how to explain it. He's lost.

There's so much sarcasm in Harry's voice and Louis knows how he can fix it, but he just _can't._

“Fuck, Harry. It's not a big deal-.”

“Then what's your problem? Tell me!” His voice is loud but not yet at shouting level and Louis feels so _done._

“ _You're_ the problem! You're the fucking problem! It's you, you, you, everywhere I go. My mom, my friends, the team, all they talk about is bloody you. And when I finally get to be with you, after all this time, you talk about yourself.”

Harry's anger is now evidently gone and it's been replaced with pure shock. “I-I didn't know you felt like that. I didn't know, I-.”

Louis shakes his head, because he's gone and ruined everything. “No, just. I'm sorry for ruining your day. I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry, H.”

He needs to get away, so he's up and walking away but Harry's by his side soon enough. “No, you didn't ruin it. Just- Don't leave please? I'm sorry, god I'm so sorry. Let me fix it, please.”

Louis chuckles bitterly. “Harry, I-I'm being stupid, okay? I'm sorry for what I said. It was bullshit-.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, your feelings aren't bullshit? Just please trust me and tell me,” Harry pleads as they walk, the pace having slowed down since they first got up.

Louis curses himself as the urge to cry overwhelms him because he never intended to let his feelings get in the way of everything.

“I'm jealous of you,” he whispers out slowly because why not? If not to confide in Harry, then who?

Harry stops walking, and Louis takes it as his chance. He starts to speed up, hoping that somehow he can get away before he has to explain.

“Wait!” Harry calls out to him as he jogs up and grabs him by the arm, tugging him around to face him. “You're jealous?”

“Jesus, Harry,” he sighs out exasperatedly. “I can't right now.”

“But why?” Harry asks. “Is it because of the attention I've been getting? Because I only care for yours, I swear.”

Louis knows it's bullshit but Harry thinks it's true. It's not the problem anyway.

“That's not it. It's just-- I don't know how to say it.” He shrugs as he tries to appear nonchalant. Maybe he can put this conversation off.

“If it's not that, then what is it? Is it the whole swimming thing? You know I don't love it more than you. I love you so much just-.”

“I wish I never quit, okay!” Louis finally gets it out and it seems to take all the air out of him.

“What?” Harry asks, too confused to formulate a response.

Louis finally stops walking and faces his boyfriend. He pouts before he's colliding into him, resting his head on his chest. “I just wish I could still be out there, swimming and being on top. I miss it so much and seeing you do so well at it just kills me. I gave up before I could even try.”

“Lou,” Harry whispers and ignores the looks from everyone in the park.

“It's just. You were so good and you were _thirteen,_ and I was good too, but you were out of everyone's league by that time so I said fuck it, I'll never be that good and training was getting tedious anyway.”

He can feel a few tears escape, but luckily it's just those few. “I just regret it so much.”

“Louis,” Harry says again. “I-I get it. I'm sorry. I'll try to keep it low, I just- I didn't know you felt that way. I didn't know it was hurting you that much.

But swimming is a big part of my life. I love it so much and I don't think I could ever stop. But I love you too and it doesn't matter much whether you're the best swimmer in the world or if you'd drown in the kiddie pool.”

Louis pulls away, wiping quickly at his eyes. “God, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry, today was supposed to be a happy day. You coming home and all, and I've teared up unhappily _gosh._ ”

Harry smiles at him. “Any day with you is great.”

Louis punches him playfully in the shoulder. “God, you're such a sap. How do I even deal with you?”

Harry's smirking now as bumps Louis with his shoulder as they continue to walk. “Mm, I don't know. I think it's the curls.”

Louis laughs, his voice still a bit wrecked. “Yeah. Suppose it is.”

Louis sighs though, genuinely feeling guilty of the disrupt in what was to be a fantastic day for Harry. “I really am sorry for digging up all this shit today of all days. Anything I can do to make it up?”

“You don't have anything to apologize for,” Harry says making Louis roll his eyes in frustration. Harry is too stubborn sometimes and he's about to complain before Harry speaks again.

“You could suck me off when we get home, but you know...”

Louis bursts out laughing and Harry joins him too. Louis grabs his hand, entwining their finger as he smirks. “I think we could work something out.”

*

He surprisingly feels much better about it.

He still watches the team swim and thinks he wants to be in there with them, but he doesn't mind much. He always hated training anyway, and their team was one of the best in state, so it was probably doubly bad.

Harry swims like he does, but he's the same, not letting the fame get to his head.

Reporters come to meets and he gets interviewed. Most of the time after his races, water still dripping from his body, chiseled muscles clenches as he catches his breath and speaks.

It's so hot.

Louis's in the stands as usual, watching as the team warms down after a long day of training. Harry's finished first, climbing out easily, water draining from him as he emerges. He pulls off his cap and goggles, curls flying out everywhere. He's in his little speedo today and it reveals his muscular thighs and shows off his very noticeable bulge.

Louis's staring and he's so turned on.

Harry spots him and notices the look on his face and he smirks. He gives him a little wave, walking away with a pep in his step, probably to tease him even further.

Louis wants to kill him right now, but if he does, he won't be getting laid anytime soon. He gets up and stalks to the locker room, as a pretty much unofficial member he's allowed.

He walks in, passing all the other guys before he spots Harry at his usual locker. He successfully sneaks up on him and hugs him from behind, feeling him tense in surprise.

“You'll get yourself wet,” Harry chuckles but accepts the hug, leaning his backwards so his neck is resting on Louis's head.

Louis only squeezes tighter, because he just needs Harry now, in any way he can have him.

“Louuuu,” Harry whines and tries to wiggle him off. The whole locker room is staring, but they're so used to it that they just roll their eyes and move on.

“Let me shower and then I'm all yours, okay?” Harry tries to bargain and it's good enough for Louis.

He waits outside while Harry showers, chatting with Niall about the last football game.

They're getting very heated about sides when Harry comes strolling out, sports bag slung on his arm and gears bag tucked under the other.

He's smiling, as he always is, when he approaches them, throwing his arms over both their shoulders. “Football's so _boring._ I think swimming's a way better sport.”

Niall groans. “Ugh, don't remind me. This morning almost killed me, fuck.”

Harry's face turns into one of scolding. “That's no reason to skip today! No pain, no game!”

Niall shakes his head, throwing Harry's arm off him. “Mate, that's why you'll die young.”

Harry pouts at the comment but shrugs it off to pay more attention to Louis.

“Heard you're taking me home today,” he whispers into his hair and Louis hasn't exactly forgotten about his earlier predicament.

Louis nods. “Yeah, my mom's out of town so I have the car and your mom's busy or something.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “So we'll have the house alone tonight?”

Louis shoves him off. He can't make those suggestions when Louis can't do anything about it.

“It's a school night so I got to go home. But I could stay for a while...”

Harry smirks before he's dragging him off to the car.

Louis thinks he breaks the limit and few stoplights but he knows he's made record time to Harry's house.

They're making out as they close the door, then they're in Harry's room and then their clothes are off.

Harry fucks likes he swims. Hard and fast.

So it's a great night overall.

*

_Louis shines in his own way, but Harry's that bright star that overshadows all the others._

*

Harry makes the National Team.

It's not for any events, but more for training purposes. Harry's seventeen, normally the perfect peak time for girls, but the boys normally do better when older.

He's expected to be so good. They don't want him to burn out but they don't want him to lose the skill he has now. So they're watching him carefully. They can see him headlining the Olympics in the future.

He's no longer under such a stressful training program. He solely trains with the team and does weights on Saturdays, so there's a sense of normalcy again.

Louis really likes it.

Harry's been trying to make him feel more secure, and as sweet as it sounds, it isn't.

He's been offering to take him on _dates._ Of the time they've been dating, they've never been on an official date and Louis kind of likes that dynamic. Harry's determined, though, to make sure he never has another insecure thought again.

Louis likes it, really; he's just not sure if it's something he'd like in their relationship.

They're on a break now and after much convincing Harry's decided to take a few days off from training. It had taken a lot, but after the promise to spend some much needed quality time with Louis, he finally caved.

The past few days have been filled with reminiscing of the days when they were younger and a little bit of storytelling.

They're in Louis's room, Harry bringing all his medals from when they were kids and they sit there comparing times and awards.

“Oh my god, Harry. You swam 34.96 when you were eight?” Louis says, shocked at the time he sees on the gold medal.

Harry blushes. “I'll have you know that was a onetime thing. But look here,” he picks up one of Louis's. “Silver in fifty meter butterfly, time 38.78 and we were nine.”

Louis blushes a little bit at the praise. “Oh please, by that time you'd started to catch up in fly.” He pauses as he waves his hand over the bed covered in medals and ribbons. He finds the one he's looking and his eyes scan over the tag attached. “Harry Styles, first place fifty meters butterfly, time 38.64. Wow, Harry. Wow.”

Harry grabs the medal from his hand.

“Give me that,” he says as his eyes scan over the tag and then a grin erupts on his face, “Ha! I beat you!”

Louis rolls his eyes at the excited look on his face. “Pipe down, fish boy. I have so many others that I won.”

Harry grins at him, dimples poking his cheeks. He's scanning the bed for some more when his eyes land on one. “Oh, Louis look! This one's a relay from when we were in ten!”

Louis jumps at it and moves closer to his boyfriend, almost seated on his lap. “Oh my god, let me see.”

Louis looks at it, the date and the meet and his eyes widen. “Harry, this was the first time our dream team relay was formed!”

Harry's brows furrow as he tries to remember and the look on his face when he does is priceless. “Oh my god, I remember. It was just me, you and Liam, and Niall had just started so we finally got the relay team.”

“Yeah, I remember our club was pretty small so we didn't have much in our age group.”

Harry smiles impossibly wider. “Liam did the back and he gave us this great lead, then I did the breast, and we all know how great I am at breast.”

Louis looks mock offended by his cockiness but then he's nodding and agreeing. “Yeah and you just made it impossibly bigger. Then I did my fly and were good to go.”

Harry laughs. “Remember how nervous we were about the free leg because it was Niall's first meet?”

Louis laughs along with him. “Oh my god, yes! But he did so well and not once did he get tired.”

Louis's practically in his lap at this point and they're cuddled up, laughing as they reminisce those days. It's fun to think about all the times they've had together, all the memories they've made and continue to make.

It's a bit different than what he's used to, but he actually embraces it. He and Harry can't be kids forever and their relationship needs to grow into one of mutual understanding and respect.

Louis’s getting it now, that they don't need to be together every moment of the day. Or that they can love other things, like how Harry loves swimming.

He thinks it's better than before.

Out of nowhere, Harry leans forward and kisses his lip, causing him to blush profusely in surprise.

“I really love you,” Harry says as he pulls away from the gentle kiss.

Louis smiles at him too. “I really love you too.”

“Do you still wish you hadn't quit?” Harry asks a bit guiltily.

Louis shrugs. “I mean, yeah, but only because of a “what if” situation. You know how much I hated training anyway.”

Harry smiles. “That's good, I guess. I don't know how I'd feel if we got more competitive with each other. It really could have ruined us, you know.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, I think about that a lot actually. I mean, I'm glad I was the one who did, ‘cause here you are winning Junior World's and training with the National Team.”

Harry blushes but Louis doesn't miss the look of nervousness on his face. “Those predictions about Olympics and all that make me so nervous. What if I get injured? I already have a bit of a shoulder issue. What if I burned out, or peaked too early? What if I just start to hate it?”

Louis thinks about for a while, knowing Harry deserves the best answer possible. “Well, you don't swim so you can be the best, do you? I mean, I know how much you love the glory and fame but that's not why you swim. You swim because you love it and when you're in the water, you're a different person.”

Harry looks down at their laps. “Yeah, I know. But the pressure is still there. I don't mind the training, I love it even. It's just a reminder what the world wants from me. It sucks a little bit.”

Louis surprises him with a kiss, a sweet and passionate one. “Hey, you’ve got to ignore them. It's about what _you_ want. You're already pretty legendary, breaking international records and all. No need for you to be nervous. You've made the team proud, you've made your family proud, and you’ve made me proud. Just make yourself proud, yeah?”

Harry's beaming at him and he kisses him again, rough this time.

“Swimming's pretty great, Lou.” He says as they pull apart, foreheads touching. “But I think we're pretty great too.”

Louis breathes out a sigh. “I think we are too.”

Louis thinks it's kind of great, how much they love each other, how much they both love swimming. Harry loves the blue of the water, but he also loves of the blue of Louis's eyes.

Harry thinks he loves Louis's blue a little bit more.

It's pretty great, actually.

*

_Harry's the star, but Louis is his light._

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't swimming just great? :)


End file.
